


i think about it all the time

by asexuelf



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - No Cult, Angst, Blood, Canon Gay Character(s), Child Abuse, Crushes, Crying, Dissociation, Friendship, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Violence, not much salvis tbh mostly friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:35:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21936100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexuelf/pseuds/asexuelf
Summary: Travis finally snaps and blows up at his father. The resulting violence is deadly and he finds himself running as fast as he can to Addison Apartments.
Relationships: Sal Fisher/Travis Phelps
Comments: 8
Kudos: 122





	i think about it all the time

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to post this yesterday but i ended up taking a big nap by accident :0 it needed more work anyhow. hopefully that extra work suits to make the fic even better!
> 
> travis' blow up is based off of one of my own - but dont worry! nobody's hitting me or hurting me. it just helps me deal with stuff to write about it :3
> 
> song title is from 'my confession' by otep. it's kind of the fic's soundtrack.
> 
> i hope you enjoy...! 💖

Travis can't stop running. His legs ache so badly he can hardly believe his knees are still bending and his chest is growing tight and cold in that way it sometimes does at the bottom of the shower when he's on his knees, crying, praying to God, _please, please, please_ -

He's praying to God now too. Between the miles he's sprinted and the words he's cried to God, his lungs can't keep up. They hurt. He hurts.

Night has long since fallen over Nockfell and the ground is still soft from the morning rain. Twice now he's slipped - and he slips a third time when he reaches a turn he has to make, but he stays on his feet, keeps running, has to keep running.

He wonders if his father thinks he's running to the church. A part of him wants to. His father wouldn't hurt him in God's house, would he? And the people there wouldn't let him, would they?

It doesn't matter, not really; he's not running to Phelps' Ministry. He's running a little further, to a place he's only been once before.

When he gets to Addison Apartments, he swings the door open like the Devil is behind him. In some ways, that's not far from the truth. It's definitely closer than he wants it to be. He doesn't stop, running straight through the doors, past a man shouting out to him through a mail slot, and right into the elevator.

Hoping he's right, he jams his finger into the '4' button.

"Oh, God. Oh, God. Please, Lord, let the elevator close." His entire body trembles, adrenaline and fear and _fear_ taking over. He's shaking so hard he almost worries his skin will slide right off his bones. "Please, please-"

It closes. Travis thanks God the entire ride.

When it stops on the 4th floor, Travis casts a terrified glance at the stairs and bolts a few more feet to room 402. He bangs on the door like it's the last thing he'll ever do. He hopes to God it isn't the last thing he'll ever do.

"Please, please!" He slams his open palm against the door. "Please!"

He doesn't know what he's begging for. Salvation, forgiveness, anything. Anything that doesn't end with him dying tonight.

The door opens and Travis almost breaks down sobbing with gratitude. The man has Sal's hair and his same kind, tired eyes.

"Oh, thank you, God. Thank you."

Mr. Fisher looks down at him in concern, eyes wide. There are dark circles beneath them and wrinkles at the corners. "What's wrong, son? You look like a killer is after you!"

"Yeah," Travis looks over his shoulder. The hall is blessedly empty. "Is Sal here?"

The man's eyes grow wider, recognition taking his face. "You're one of Sal's friends? Um, come in, come in."

Travis does gladly. He scurries in and motions anxiously for Mr. Fisher to close the door.

"Sorry for dropping in unannounced," he says as politely he can manage. The words come out through clenched, chattering teeth. He collapses to his knees a second later, his legs no longer able to hold him. They feel boneless. His body is so tense he can't control his limbs. "Is Sal here?"

"I'll- get him in a moment. Son, are you in danger?"

"Yes, Sir."

And then the waterworks come and Travis is crying like he never has before. The sobs don't leave him so much as they tear their way through him, coming out ugly and loud and so removed from any sound he's ever heard from his mouth. It's like being in the ocean, moved but unable to move himself. Everything is so foggy. He feels like a ghost.

"Dad, what's-? Oh, shit."

Travis looks up, his head moving slow like he's trapped under water. "Help me"

"You know this boy, son?"

"Yeah, Dad." Sal comes forward, his hair down and wild around his face. His uncovered face. Travis almost can't see him through the tears, just a blur of colors that he doesn't normally associate with a face. "Travis, what happened- are you hurt?"

His arms won't move, but Travis wants nothing more than to reach out to him. His one and only friend. Sometimes they hint towards something more, linger in ways that friends don't, but Travis doesn't want that right now. It's too confusing. He just wants his friend. He knows that Sal will protect him. 

"He's after me, Sal, I messed up, please-"

"Shh, shh," He doesn't have to reach out to Sal - soft and careful, Sal's hands find their way on to his body, over his hair. His skin is so warm against his arms, his touch always so compassionate even when Travis doesn't deserve it. "Who is? Is it your father?"

Sal always knows. Hard sobs wrack through his sore body again. "Yes. I messed up, Sal, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You don't have anything to apologize for. Whatever happened, you don't deserve to be hurt. Ever, okay?" Travis coughs, choking on his own tears. When Sal brings a sleeve up to wipe at his nose, he flinches, but the touch is as sweet as the rest. "Can I hear you say you understand?"

"I understand." He has no idea if the words are even intelligible, but Sal seems to hear him, because the soothing touch returns to his arms.

"Thank you, Travis. It's gonna be okay." Sal turns away from him for a moment and he finds himself already missing the warmth. "Dad, will you lock the door?"

"Um- Yes. Do you need anything else?"

"Not yet. I'll try to take care of things and get back to you. Thank you, Dad."

"Of course, son. I'll be here when you need me."

Hearing them brings a new pain into Travis' heart. He's never heard a father speak that way to his son before. His father never spoke like that to him.

Gingerly, Sal stands, careful as he begins to pull Travis up off of the floor.

"I hurt," he protests.

"It's okay." Warm and too thin, Sal works his way under Travis' body. He can barely move Travis an inch. He's so small. "Just- (huff), let me get you to the bathroom."

"Bathroom?"

Slowly, Travis finds the will to move, to help Sal with the weight of his body. "You need warm water. Trust me, it will help."

Travis listens, taking tiny steps with Sal even as his body tries to shut down. He tries to curl against the other boy like a baby, slowing their progress. "It hurts," he says again, foolishly. He's so stupid. This is all his fault.

"Did you run all the way here?"

"Yes. I was so scared, Sal."

"I know. But it's okay now. I won't let him hurt you."

Tears roll down Travis' face. "Thank you." His voice sounds so small. Was that him who said that? He's almost not certain. At least it doesn't feel like earlier. "Will you help me in the bath? I'm scared of drowning."

"Oh- Yeah, of course, man." Sal presses impossibly closer. "You just need a minute to recuperate and rest those muscles of yours. Then we'll dry you off nice and warm and get you in some pajamas. Luckily I wear mine pretty big, cuz you're way taller."

"You're so little."

"I really am."

Although normally he would find it deplorable to undress in front of another person (let alone another boy!), he lets Sal undress him, shuddering, revolted by the way his clothes stick to his skin with cold sweat. He can't stop shivering.

Sal makes quick work of his clothes and then lowers him into a bath that he joltingly realizes is already halfway full. Did Sal start it without him noticing?

Travis grips the edge of the tub with shaking fingers. "It's warm."

"Mhm. Nothing too hot, I'm not sure how your body will react. We're going to do warm for now and maybe add some hotter water when you're ready."

All Travis can do is nod. He doesn't feel capable of arguing right now. Especially not when Sally's voice is so low and gentle.

Hands make it to his hair and he flinches away, fear leaping up his throat again. The water splashes around him but doesn't lick outside of the tub. The tub isn't full enough for that.

Sal holds his hands in front of him placatingly. "It's okay, it's okay. I just need to check and make sure you aren't concussed and that that wound is healed."

"Wound…?" Oh, right. His father… 

The man's blows had never felt that hard before. It's scary to think that after all those years of violence, he'd never truly known the full weight of his father's fist. Not until tonight. Tonight he'd been swung at only twice with a force he can only imagine was meant to kill before running.

"I never ran before."

Sal's hand freeze against his ears. Travis wants him to close his hands over them and drown out the world. "Never?"

"No… He didn't hit very hard usually. Nothing I couldn't handle." Especially with all the fist fights he'd been in at school. He's just glad the teachers never cared enough to tattle to his father. "Tonight was…"

"What changed about tonight?" Those hands are still on him, one thumbing gentle circles against the skin above his ear, the other carefully brushing his hair away from the place he hit the coffee table. "What was different?"

"I- I messed up-"

"Shh, shh, it's okay. You didn't mess up, Travis, you're wonderful. Tell me what happened."

He takes a deep, shivering breath. The expanding of his chest only draws attention to the bruising of his ribs. Father hadn't been happy the night before, either.

"...Travis?"

"I don't know why I said that." He had closed his mouth - he was quiet, he was good. But somehow those words escaped him, like someone else was speaking through him. It was like possession, only there was no ghost. Just Travis. "I didn't want to make him angry. I was just so mad - and I started shaking - and I couldn't-"

Sal's touch is so soothing. Although he sobs with each breath, it's almost like it's his body doing it and not really him. Just like shouting at his father - not even shouting. _Screaming_. He's never heard his voice like that before. He swallowed the scream back up, clenched his teeth and tried so, so hard to keep it in, but it's still building. It's been building for so long. He can feel it and, he thinks hysterically, it can feel him, but it's like an out-of-body experience. 

Sal wets his hair so gently. When was the last time someone touched him gently? Travis can't remember.

"I like it when you touch me," Travis says. Sal's hands still again but he doesn't pull away. "You're really nice."

"You're nice too. Most of the time." He sounds so wry. Travis feels kind of like he should laugh, but his body still won't listen.

"I feel like I'm in survival mode."

"You probably are." He takes a cup from beside the soaps and pours a gentle stream over Travis' head like he's a baby. The water runs pink, little clumps of red pulled away with it. It's scary to look at. "Imagine… Imagine this big water balloon, right? You can fit a lot of water in the balloon - you can even reinforce it so it can handle more. But one day, that balloon is going to pop. And whoever's near it is, well-"

"In the splash zone?"

A very tiny laugh escapes Sal, so quiet it can barely be heard. He looks nice when he smiles - he should probably be scary, with his teeth poking out through his gnarled up mouth and so much of his nose gone and that big black hole where his eye once was, but Travis just thinks he looks nice. His hair is pretty when he first wakes up, all flat on one side and big on the other.

"Yes, exactly."

It takes a while for Travis to remember what they're talking about.

"So, I'm not a bad son? Dad was just in the splash zone?"

"Yeah. You're a good kid, Travis." Sal gently wipes away some of the blood that washed down over his cheek. "But I think that man is a bad father. I don't think I can let you go home if he's going to hurt you."

Travis' lip wobbles. He never wants to see that man again. "I want to go home." He misses his mother. He doesn't really remember her, but she can't be as bad as Kenneth Phelps.

"You can still go home. It'll just take a little while, because we have to make one. When Dad and I moved away from New Jersey, I was scared. But my home in Nockfell was just what I needed."

"Do I have to move?"

"Not if you don't want to. I think you can- oh, what's it called? When you disown your parents?"

"I have no clue."

"It'll come to me later." He tucks hair behind Travis' ear. "Until then, I'll do whatever I can for you, okay?"

"My father has a lot of friends in the police…"

Sal goes quiet at that, looking away, before asking, "Are you afraid they'll hurt you?"

"Maybe," he admits. "My father hurts me - why shouldn't they?"

"Oh, Travis…"

Travis likes it a lot less when Sally looks sad. "Can I have more hot water?" If only to give Sal something to do.

The boy nods, reaching over to turn the water back on. The sounds are grounding, almost relaxing: the hard rush of the faucet, the miniscule sounds of splashing just around the stream, and the odd tinny whine of the old pipes as they spit out the water. Travis likes it. He likes it so much that he closes his eyes and doesn't open them until the next morning.

-

When he wakes, he's dressed in pajamas that don't quite fit and tucked into a wholly unfamiliar bed.

He rubs a hand over his eyes and groans.

"Oh, thank God." 

He flinches at the voice but when he looks over, it's only Sal. He's sitting at the end of the bed, his prosthesis back on and his glass eye in. His hair has been wrangled into something more presentable, but he hasn't pulled it up just yet.

"I was worried you were concussed," Sal continues. "It didn't seem like it when I looked at your eyes, but then you fell asleep, and I was so nervous…"

"Fell asleep…" The memories come rushing back, distorted and strange. "Oh."

Had Sal really seen him nude like that? Not just in body, but crying again, crumpled in on himself like the bad rough draft of an unsent letter. As embarrassed as Travis is, he has to admit, it feels nice that Sal is still here after all that. Still his friend.

"Sorry about-"

"Don't apologize. No apologizing for reaching out to me for help, Travis, not ever. I can't tell you how glad I am you came here."

"I- Oh." He swallows. What is he even supposed to say to that? 

A part of him wants to say something mean, test Sal's friendship further, but Travis recognizes it as that feeling from last night. The same awful feeling that spewed vitriol at his father and got him into a kind of trouble he'd never known before.

He ignores it. "Thank you, then."

"You're very welcome."

Travis lays back on Sal's pillow, staring at the ceiling. Just yesterday, he would imagine lying like this in Sal's bed with a sense of secrecy and excitement, but now it seems a little underwhelming. He wishes he could be in his bed instead. It's more comfortable. And yet, he knows that he'll never lie in that bed again. Even if he somehow is taken home and survives, he's climbing out the window and leaving that place behind. He'll do whatever he has to to escape his father.

"Do you know a place I can stay?"

He hears Sal move, the straps on his mask sliding against the wall. "I want to say here, but that would probably be a temporary arrangement. We don't have much space and we don't always have very much money, what with my expensive medications…"

"I understand. I wouldn't want to impose on you guys. Not after you saved my life last night." He looks up to meet Sal's gaze, but Sal turns his head, shakes it in denial. "I mean it. You did. My father was going to kill me."

" _You_ saved your life. You ran like hell and saved yourself. I won't take credit for that, Travis, I'm too proud of you."

"Damn it, Sally Face…" If it weren't for the way his head and chest ached, he'd rise up and shake Sal silly. "You literally bathed me and bandaged my wounds."

A surprised laugh escapes the boy in front of him. "Okay, fair enough. I'd do it again. If I can find a way to keep you here, I'll do that too."

Against his judgement, Travis' face grows warm. Being cared for is so unfamiliar and so pleasant. "I can take care of myself, Sally Face. Don't go selling any organs to keep me around, okay? It's not exactly _dire_ at the moment."

"Oh, don't worry - no way would I ever do that. What if they used my organs for something weird, like building a cyborg version of me? And anyways, I can sell my body in much more lucrative ways."

Now Travis' face is really warm. "What?! Can't you just sell weed like a normal degenerate?"

Sal laughs - _really_ laughs, bright and snorting. Travis wonders what he looks like when he laughs. Does the skin around his good eye crinkle still?

"Anyways… I think I'll be alright." He carefully sits up, wrapping an arm loosely around his knees for balance. He shakes his head, sighing. "The big hurdle will be finding a way to keep my father away from me."

Sal's hand finds his in the bedsheets, holding it lightly. "I'll be with you. All the way, Travis."

"Th-Thanks. Thank you, really."

It's a bittersweet moment, but for some reason, hope blossoms in Travis' chest. It's caged in bruised ribs and sat between still-aching lungs, but it's there, ready to take him into a better tomorrow.

For the first time in a long time, Travis looks into that tomorrow and finds himself ready to face it. With Sal beside him, he knows it will be a tomorrow worth seeing.

**Author's Note:**

> it was hard to find an ending place for this one but i think i'm really happy with those ending lines
> 
> thank you for reading! 💖


End file.
